


Hand-Holding Kind of Feelings

by GuiltyPleasure1234



Category: H&D (Korea Band), POCKETDOLZ (Band), The Boyz (Korea Band), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Byungchan is in X1 dance team go figure, Dacryphilia lite, Dancers, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Enemies to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Horny, Hyung Kink, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, Mention of Bondage, Mention of alcohol and clubbing, Mirror Sex, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rivals, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Unresolved Tension, fuck buddies, me but also jugyul, not really - Freeform, referenced seungseok being in an open relationship, some TBZ and X1 members make an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26852080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyPleasure1234/pseuds/GuiltyPleasure1234
Summary: Hangyul is asked to co-choreograph a project that could be the turning point in his career. The catch is that his partner happens to be Lee Juyeon—Hangyul’s mortal enemy. (Un)fortunately, Hangyul’s motto in life is ‘Just Fuck It.’
Relationships: Lee Hangyul/Lee Juyeon (The Boyz)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47
Collections: Blazing Lights





	Hand-Holding Kind of Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt#113: enemies to lovers au! where professional choreographers who used to be in rival teams back in college are forced to choreograph together for a project that could be the turning point in their careers 
> 
> Prompter, if you're reading this, I hope I didn't disappoint you!! Also, Hangyul found out I was writing Jugyul smut and decided to give me some [motivation](https://twitter.com/lovingjuyeon/status/1309147799485853698?s=20). 🥺 Enjoy~

This is what he gets himself into when he thinks with his dick, Lee Hangyul laments.

Juyeon’s hot mouth travels down the column of his neck, nibbling at his Adam’s apple, leaving bruises that won’t be covered up by any scarves or turtlenecks because it is 35 degrees Celsius outside.

This is a bad idea because to the untrained eyes, Lee Hangyul and Lee Juyeon are at best rival choreographers and at worst mortal enemies. _Not_ ones to press up against the bathroom door of their dance studio, after everyone had gone home, hot tongues and hands traveling to sinful places. Perhaps it is more so a bad idea to desecrate their _workplace_ where the rest of the team will reconvene in less than twelve hours, oblivious to the traces of unbridled desire left by the two boys.

A hand rubs up and down Hangyul’s thigh, testing the water before getting more daring, meandering closer and closer to the center, pointedly skipping over where he needs it most, sneaking under Hangyul’s ratty black t-shirt. His dance practice tee. His well-worn, go-to, makes-his-arms-look-good t-shirt. Maybe it made his arms look _too_ good. When he gets home tonight, this t-shirt is either going to be the best tattered thing that he owns, a symbol of a love blossoming, or the worst godforsaken object that needs to be burned out of existence.

It all depends on what this means.

Juyeon moaning into his chest, mouthing at his nipples _over_ the t-shirt, greedy hands roaming his abs then pulling him close at the waist. It all depends on what Juyeon clawing hungrily at his body means. Does the older boy have feelings for him? Or is this another one of their frustrated, post-dance practice quick fuck that shall not be named in the presence of a third party?

Being forced to collaborate on a project after three full years of no contact somehow resulted in suffocating yet delicious sexual tension. Every swipe of an arm, every tap of a foot, every growl and smirk drive them both absolutely off the walls. It doesn’t help that the song they’re working on has one of the sexiest bass lines Hangyul has ever come across in his twenty-four years of existence.

Earlier today at practice, something felt different between them. Juyeon were glancing at him with hopeful eyes like he had something to say. _The look in someone’s eyes before they confess._ Hangyul berates himself for even allowing such thought because he had seen that look on Juyeon before, when they were in college, but nothing ever came of it.

Hangyul almost tears up at that.

He kinda does a little.

But something about the way tears gather at the corners of his eyes, his throat constricting and heart drumming wildly that turns him on even more. He runs his fingers through Juyeon’s sweaty hair, coming down to cup his cheeks almost too tenderly, too lovingly.

Juyeon seems encouraged by that cheek stroke because he demands, “Hangyul, give me a stroke.” And Hangyul knows Juyeon does not mean his face.

His hand finds its way downwards, already too familiar, past the waistband of Juyeon’s jogger, arriving at the soft cotton of Juyeon’s brief. Hangyul squeezes experimentally, listening for the delicious moans that Juyeon whispers into his ears, conscious of them being in a public bathroom and someone could walk in any minute.

“Can I touch you?” Juyeon speaks in between moans, already breathy.

Gosh, after however many quickies they’ve had in shoddy bathrooms, in practice rooms late at night, in the back of dance clubs, Juyeon still asks before taking any step further.

Something about the way Juyeon treats him makes him feel cherished. And that confuses him to no end. They’re supposed to hate each other. The only way to rationalize their sexual activity is to frame it as mindless, uninhibited, in-the-moment slips of self-control (that somehow manage to _keep_ happening). Juyeon constantly checking in with him and treating his body with such care does nothing good for his heart that is seizing with affection.

“Yes, please. Always a yes.”

“Mmm, always good to check.”

Affection be damned.

Juyeon yanks down his pants and underwear in one go and Hangyul hisses from the sudden cold air his cock is exposed to. They take turns spitting on their hands and reshuffle to get comfortable, making sure they’re at a good angle. With slicked hands, they come close once again and jerk each other off with much efficiency. Their height difference means Hangyul naturally tucks his head in the crook of Juyeon’s neck, leaving small bites and licks.

In these encounters, Hangyul is often fixated on the other boy’s jasmine fragrance that is mixed with sweat and something uniquely Lee Juyeon.

He likes that instead of going for something strong and “masculine,” Juyeon’s cologne is a mix of vanilla and jasmine with a slight hint of petrichor. In the lull of their repetitive strokes, Hangyul closes his eyes and revels in the delight of being close to Juyeon, grinning unconsciously at the boy’s every sound. The tiny stall is filled with the squelch of pre-cum mixed with spit, going faster and faster. With a particularly loud groan, Juyeon climaxes, shuddering a little in Hangyul’s embrace. Hangyul has to fight the urge to give him cheek smooches. _Because that would be silly and inappropriate._

“How about you? Are you close?” Count on Lee Juyeon to turn his attention to his partner two seconds after cumming.

Hangyul hates that he feels special and precious.

“Yeah, just a bit more…”

For the sake of his heart, Hangyul decides that Juyeon is simply a decent guy who takes sex seriously, even if it’s with his mortal enemy. Hangyul climaxes shortly after, white spurts spilling from Juyeon’s palm.

They allow themselves to bask in the afterglow momentarily, before detaching in silence and walking out to wash their hands of each other.

Hangyul always feels a little empty after these encounters regardless of how gratifying the sex is. Sometimes they say goodbye, sometimes they don’t and simply walk off in opposite directions. Hangyul doesn’t know why but he sometimes watches Juyeon’s retreating back until it disappears out of sight.

(He prefers to think of himself as a simple-minded person, _chooses_ to do so, for taking the next step in logical deduction would unveil to him what he isn’t ready for.)

/

“Hangyul-ah, please? This project could put you on the map.”

Two weeks ago, Youngjoon hyung came to him with a proposal that would change his life.

“Hyung, you know we don’t get along. I don’t want to ruin your huge commission just because I can’t stand to be in the same room with Lee Juyeon.”

There were many ways to describe what they were to each other. College sunbae and hoobae? Dancers on rival teams who took turns winning over one another? (Vaguely agreed upon) former sex buddies? Hangyul and his unrequited crush?

“Hangyul-ah, are you really going to let one person stop you from getting the big break you deserve?”

Yeah, Hangyul, that sounded colossally stupid, especially for an adult in his mid-twenties. 

“Did he—did Juyeon know I’m also invited to do this project?” _Did that give him pause the same way it does me? Did he agree?_

“Yeah, I took him out for a meal, asked him in person and he agreed in 0.2 second.”

Oh.

So Hangyul was the only one finding Juyeon’s presence suffocating then.

For some reasons, Hangyul felt like there was a huge rock in his chest. Or butterflies. He wasn’t sure.

Would it have been better if Juyeon was _also_ agonizing over this decision? Hangyul felt like he was at a riverbank needing to cross to the other side. He was promised riches and wonders once he arrived, but the air was foggy and he couldn’t see how far he’d need to swim.

“Besides, I know it’s a dick move to say this, but can you really afford to say no right now?” Youngjoon hyung spoke without looking at him, staring at his full soju cup like it was the Magic Mirror predicting Hangyul’s future.

Hangyul knew Youngjoon hyung was only looking out for him, knew that he _literally_ couldn’t afford to be choosy. Rent was coming up in two weeks and he could really use the advanced deposit. If he turned this down, he’d be patching together several temp gigs to barely get by.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Hangyul’s motto in life was ‘Just Fuck It.’

“Yeah I’ll do it.” He filled up his own cup and downed it in one go.

/

Hangyul really tried to keep it cool. He really did.

If only Lee Juyeon didn’t show up to the first rehearsal in leather pants and sheer silky top.

What the fuck?

They hadn’t seen each other in three years and how come Juyeon managed to get even hotter?

“Good morning everyone, my name is Lee Juyeon, though I think I’ve met most of you before. It’s nice to finally work together.”

Motherfucker, Hangyul wanted to wipe that smirk off of Juyeon’s face. So much so that he forgot he was supposed to introduce himself next. Wooseok kindly reminded him by elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ow, _fuck._ Uhhh,” Okay, pull yourself together Lee Hangyul, you’re no less of a choreographer than that bastard is, heck, your mom thinks you’re the best choreographer to ever have lived.

“I’m Hangyul, the other choreographer.” If he could, Hangyul would like to have a word with himself. Introducing himself as the _other_ choreographer might have been the sure bet to undermine his own authority. “I mean, I’m the co-choreographer. I do half the shit. I’m here to make sure the final product will be worth the commission at all.”

He heard giggles in the crowd and it better not be from his own men.

(He was sorely disappointed to see it was indeed Yohan and Byungchan who were covering their mouths to muffle further distractions.)

“Great! So excited to see what you two come up with!” Youngjoon hyung was wearing a shit-eating grin and Hangyul couldn’t tell if it was out of discomfort or genuine excitement.

He’d always been a little bad at reading people’s emotions.

“So, Hangyul-ssi. We’ve finally met again.” The devil in leather pants and sheer top turned to him. If he hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought that Juyeon was flushed with shyness. But he did know better and understood that Juyeon hated his gut. If he were flushed at all, it would have been out of frustration and nothing else.

“Can’t say it’s nice to see you again.”

Why did Lee Juyeon need to look so… so… long? Every single one of Juyeon’s arm muscles was taut and perfect like those Hangyul had seen in Biology textbooks. And his nose. _Gosh,_ his nose. Hangyul wanted to climb it like a tree. Everything about Juyeon was just so… so…

_Statuesque,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully, all of a sudden coming up with multisyllabic words.

“Well, for _me_ it’s nice.” Had Juyeon always made such intense eye contact when he talked? Hangyul felt like shrinking into himself under the older boy’s gaze. “I was worried at first that you’d turn down this project.”

Juyeon cracked a smile, morphing from mouth-drying sex god to a cute baby in a blink of an eye.

“Are you kidding? Why would I turn down a project of this scale?”

“I don’t know, to avoid me maybe? Is that too egotistical to think?”

So Juyeon knew. He knew Hangyul had been avoiding every single dance team reunion, dodging every invite to attend school festivals, heck, even meetups where he knew a mutual friend of them would be there and thus, perhaps Juyeon too.

“The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Juyeon-ssi,” scoffed Hangyul.

(Little did he know, he’d soon be eating his word. The whole world may not have revolved around Lee Juyeon but Hangyul certainly did. He’d always been in Juyeon’s orbit and three years without any contact sadly did not change that.)

“Uh huh, say that without blushing next time, Hangyul-ah.” Juyeon dared to _wink_ at him.

What the actual fuck? Lee Juyeon couldn’t stay in his fucking lane to save the world apparently.

He couldn’t do this. He really couldn’t. His mouth, as it always did, ran faster than his brain, “‘Hangyul-ah’? Why did you drop your honorifics?”

“Because I’m your hyung? So I get to?” Now that was a fair point. Besides, why was Hangyul acting like he’d never heard the older drop honorifics before? He shuddered at the memory of his name being whispered into his ears, hot breaths leaving him hard and wanting.

“Don’t get too familiar too quickly, Juyeon-ssi. This is a business meeting, no need to start speaking down to me. We are partners here, co-workers, peers, co-choreographers, the point is, we are equals.”

Go figure. If Hangyul didn’t snark back with the toughest bite, he might have dropped to his knee right that second and begged Juyeon to let him suck his dick. He almost forgot the rest of TBZ and X1 standing around, cracking their knuckles and stretching their thighs for the umpteenth time, waiting for their leaders to finish whatever this was and start the work already. 

“Y’all, there is a _lot_ of testosterone up in here,” Byungchan complained.

Juyeon didn’t move at all except his eyes. He was sizing Hangyul up, taking an X-ray scan of Hangyul’s meticulously styled hair, his exposed chest from the deep V-neck, his clumsy physical tics that hid nothing. Earnest, soft-spoken, hard-working Lee Juyeon was scary when he wanted to be.

“Sure, co-worker. Looking forward to working with you.”

/

The problem is, they end up doing way more than just working.

Ever since that one evening they fucked in the bathroom after practice, they have been fucking at least three times a week. In the back of Juyeon’s car, in empty hallways during lunch break, on the phone at night when they’re desperate.

That is quite a lot of fucking.

The most fucking Hangyul has done in the past few years to be exact. Hangyul isn’t a relationship kind of guy. The first and only one he was in was with Doyeon in eighth grade. They both turned out to be gay and have stayed friends until this day. Without being in relationships, Hangyul finds himself constantly balancing being too lazy for hookups and giving in to the Horny Demon.

Hangyul catches a whiff of jasmine vanilla and feels his heart picking up. This is getting kind of ridiculous.

Does Juyeon not know the impact he has? How dare he walk around with his whole well-toned arms out like that? The worst thing of all? There are _huge_ bite marks visible on his biceps like Juyeon is flaunting them on purpose, signaling to the whole world what he’s been up to. Hangyul wants to shrink into a cockroach or some other insect equally small and scuttle off.

“I’m gonna ruin him…”

“…”

“In a sexy way?” Yohan just so happens to walk past. No one in X1 or TBZ knows about the two of them. At least that is what Hangyul thinks and what Juyeon lets him believe.

“No, Yohan, in a ‘how dare you still look down on X1’ way. Did you not hear the way he singled out Hyungjun for messing up? Even though Eric and Sunwoo messed up too? Even after all this time, after we won over TBZ for two years in a row.”

“To be fair, TBZ won two consecutive years before that so I’d say we’re ev—”

“Shush.”

Goddammit, why did Yohan have to plant Thoughts in his head? Now he can’t stop thinking about _ruining_ ruining Lee Juyeon. Hangyul thinks about Juyeon on his knees peering up at him with those pretty doe eyes, lips pursing coyly. He imagines Juyeon with his hands behind his back restrained by the silk tie they’ve been practicing with. In his mind’s eyes, Juyeon whispers _Gyulie, please ruin me, please fuck my mouth until I can’t breathe. I want to be stuffed full of you._

Mm mmhmm… Hangyul licks his lips subconsciously and makes accidental eye contact with Wooseok.

“You are disgusting,” the older boy concludes.

Lee Juyeon is going to be the death of him, Hangyul groans internally at that realization. The horny part of him supplies unhelpfully: why stress about it? It’s just sex. As much as he hates Juyeon, he has to admit that the other boy is, well, fuckable. By any standards.

Hangyul is a mere mortal. Who is he to resist temptation?

/

At some point, Hangyul makes peace with the fact that they have easily slipped right back into being fuck buddies. They still don’t talk about it.

Though detrimental to his heart, _just_ fucking to let off some steam would have been fine if Juyeon weren’t also a thoughtful and introspective human being on top of being a sex god.

On Sunday, just as Hangyul arrives at the dance studio to finish a section he’s been sleeping on for days, Juyeon walks in with a prominent blush on his face and an easy smile.

“Are you drunk?”

Hangyul eyes Juyeon’s half-tucked shirt and undone tie suspiciously. The other boy was barefoot, holding his dress shoes in one hand.

“No? Maybe a bit… buzzed.” He runs a hand through his gelled back hair.

Juyeon doesn’t say anything further so Hangyul decides to let it go.

“What are you doing here so late?” asks Juyeon, clearly making an effort to divert attention away from himself.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m trying to finish the second verse.”

“I’m trying to rework the bridge.”

They break into a smile. The camaraderie is refreshing and different, way more tender anything the two of them have ever shared.

Hangyul feels eyes on him as he goes to plug in his laptop and opens Spotify.

“You have a very beautiful smile,” Juyeon whispers almost to himself. Hanyul glances over before he can even stop himself, looking away immediately, muttering a small ‘thanks’ under his breath.

Even when he has his back to Juyeon, fingers scrolling his playlist for a song to warm up to, he keeps rewinding the compliment in his head, trying to reconcile it with the person who said it.

“I really like your dimples,” says Juyeon. Are they still not moving on from this you-have-a-beautiful-smile silliness? Juyeon is just tipsy, Hangyul tries to tell himself. (Deep down, he knows how awful of an excuse that is because Juyeon has been drunk around him many times before, letting go completely after every single dance competition they participated in on rival teams).

Juyeon speaks slowly, eyes creasing into slits, the ends of his eyes flick up prettily like a feline. “Has anyone ever told you that your smile is infectious?”

Hangyul dares a glance, noticing the tiny gaps in between Juyeon’s teeth, a little something imperfect that makes the boy seem real. _Within reach_. “I know I’m handsome, Juyeon.” Hangyul hopes that snark can help cover up how fast his heart is racing right now.

“Juyeon hyung.”

“What?”

“You never call me hyung. I’m older than you, you know?” 

Seriously? Juyeon is a Babie Drunk? His lower lip juts out in a pout, looking _this_ close to busting out an aegyo right this second.

Hangyul shifts in place, still scrolling. He almost doesn’t want to put any music on, preferring to hear Juyeon speak. Finally, he settles on Michl’s “Die Trying,” hoping the slow tempo can help him calm down.

Boy, how wrong he was.

Can someone stretching be the most gorgeous thing Hangyul has even seen in his stupid life?

Can someone stretching be better than an orgasm? Better than biting into a juicy hamburger after dance practice, limbs sore and drenched in sweat? Can someone stretching take his breath away, making him hear the same song he’s heard a thousand times before _differently_?

No, Juyeon isn’t just stretching anymore, he is freestyling.

Juyeon has always been a beautiful mover. But Hangyul has never seen him do anything other than hip hop before. Right now, Juyeon, with eyes close, an adorable blush visible under the glaring practice room lighting, is letting the music possess him, his body a mere bundle of expression.

All of Hangyul’s senses are deepened in a way he rarely felt before. Every single beat seems to resonate more, the singer’s vocalization shoots through him, echoes loudly in his ears, Hangyul’s body is somehow both fixed in place _and_ itching to move with Juyeon.

He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until after the song ends and Juyeon relaxes out of whatever magic that was.

“That was.”

Hangyul meant to say something smart, he swears. Something nice or sweet but then does their relationship allow for something nice or sweet? Hangyul wanted to make an intelligent observation. Because whatever transpired felt more like a _performance_ than just warming up. It felt like art.

“Yes?” Juyeon looks giddy and proud, as if he is waiting for Hangyul to tell him he’s done a good job. Why is Juyeon so fucking cute? He is blinking at him so sweetly, so expectantly Hangyul almost reaches out to pet the other boy.

“Um.”

A complete sentence at all would be great, Lee Hangyul.

“You looked beautiful.”

Woah, okay, no, not like that, say something about his _dancing._ Hangyul would backtrack if not for the sincere smile that blooms on the other boy’s face. Juyeon looks warmed and relieved, shoulders dropping visibly, “that’s good to hear, I’ve never freestyled like that in front of anyone.”

“It was amazing, seriously.” Hangyul speaks without looking at the other boy, opening his drive to look for the song they’ve been working on for the past few weeks.

Maybe Hangyul is feeling generous tonight. Maybe he feels a bit like standing in front of a vending machine sliding in compliment after compliment just to see that smile popping up again and again on Juyeon’s face. “Even in college, I’d always known that you’d hit it big with your talent.”

“Says you.”

Make a bet: will the bridge be reworked tonight, yes or no?

“What do you mean?”

“Hangyul, the energy and fluidity in your dancing? You’ve always had spot-on musicality and stage presence. People just can’t help but be drawn to you.”

“Are you mocking me?” They were and are rivals, right? Why would Juyeon say these things to him?

“No!” The taller boy is affronted, almost choking on water. “Besides, you are such a hard worker. And it strikes me that you care about your craft more than fame or money.”

“Well, money is nice because being able to pay rent is nice. And fame gets you more money, so.”

“That is true.” Juyeon must have gotten sick of Hangyul not being able to find the song. Because he is right behind Hangyul now, chin hooked on Hangyul’s shoulder, hand landing next to Hangyul’s on the touchpad. “Here.”

The bridge does get reworked that night, but not by much.

Hangyul isn’t one to miss his steps but for some reasons, whenever Juyeon is concerned, he never finds his footing.

“So, this part, this part right here, I feel like we should go low and then pop up on the next count. And then, for the next 8 counts, do you think it’d be too much if we grab our crotch like this? And then do this hip movement?” Hangyul demonstrates perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Mmm, no, not too much at all. It’s hot. I like it.”

“Cool. And then, the section right before that, I kinda don’t love the image, you know? Should we change it to something more like this?” Hangyul does a body wave that brings him within an _inch_ of Juyeon’s face, acting out the lyrics of yearning.

“But why bring your face close to mine like that? What is the storytelling here? Homosexuality?”

“Perhaps. Do you have a problem with that, Juyeon-ssi?”

This is how things usually go down. Easy and natural as they each inject a current of _something more_ into their mundane interactions. With them, anything could become something more.

Like they have done a million times before, like a house doused in gasoline needing only a fallen half-lit match to come to life, it is a simple smash of lips tonight.

Hangyul is a house built to burn at the spark of Juyeon’s fire: wooden, windows and doors everywhere that would supply the hungry flame with the oxygen it needs. Every nook and cranny are thoroughly covered in flammables and even if Hangyul had wanted to, he’d have no way of saving himself.

That night, Hangyul realizes that he wants more of Juyeon than just the physical.

After turning stretching into art, Juyeon never gets to ‘finish the second verse’ like he intended to.

Juyeon manhandles him so he is facing the dance practice mirror. Hangyul blushes at what he sees: Juyeon pressed up behind him, eyes hazy with lust, a tongue sweeping his earlobe. Both of them are flushed and panting helplessly.

He grinds back against Juyeon, rubbing his ass on the boy’s body, shuddering every time he feels Juyeon’s cock poking at him. Hangyul whines, encouraged by the sight of them he sees in the mirror. He gets louder and more desperate, “Juyeon, fuck me, please please please.”

“Patience, baby.” Juyeon bites his ear lobes as he grabs a packet of lube and a condom from his wallet thrown haphazardly on the floor.

“Hnng,” Hangyul jumps from the sensation of cold lube pressing at his opening. He keens at the rough way Juyeon is handling him.

“I’m gonna put my finger in, okay?”

“Yes, please, I want you inside me.”

Given that he had just fingered himself this morning in the shower, it did not take long for Juyeon to start scissoring him openly, the dirty wet sounds of their activity drowned in the music that is still playing from Hangyul’s laptop. He can’t tell what song it is or that it is even his playlist at all. All he can focus on is the gaping _emptiness_ that he feels.

“Please, I need you cock.”

“Okay, puppy,” in the mirror, Juyeon leans down to leave a quick peck on Hangyul’s neck. It is a simple gesture but the word ‘puppy’ in particular makes his toes curl. Hangyul has to bite down on his lower lip to stop himself from whining, feeling himself slipping into subspace at Juyeon’s use of pet names and tender touches.

If the neck kiss made him think that the sex was going to be soft, Hangyul would be dead wrong.

A ruthless hand lands on his ass cheek and the slap echoes loudly, standing out even with the music playing.

“Hangyul, what’s the safe word?”

He is grateful that Juyeon phrased it as an open-ended question, forcing him to ground himself enough to find the answer.

“Blueberry.”

“Good boy.” Juyeon runs a hand menacingly through his hair, pulling at it roughly. The strain is so delicious that all that comes out of Hangyul’s mouth are just incoherent sounds.

He can feel the older boy starting to enter him at an excruciating pace. Then all of a sudden, Juyeon pushes in, a filthy slapping sound makes Hangyul’s hair stand on its end.

Hangyul loves the sound. He loves the wild, animalistic aspect of sex. This might make him sound like a dirty weirdo, but sex can sometimes look like a sort of dance to him, passionate and coordinated, building towards a climax that gathers his nerves to a breaking point.

Hangyul stares at them in the mirror, Juyeon is pulling at his hair like a rein, fucking him like he is riding an animal. And Hangyul’s face. Oh gosh, _his face._

He looks positively blissed out, drool running from the corner of his open mouth. His eyes are hazy and unfocused.

“Hangyul?” Juyeon is panting heavily, fingers gripping Hangyul’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. Hangyul squints hard to stop from cumming at that image alone: fingerprints left on his hips for days to remind him of this moment.

“Call me ‘hyung’.”

For some weird reasons, he is so _endeared_ by Juyeon’s request, giddy at the opportunity to please Juyeon the way he wants to be pleased. “Yes, hyung. Ruin me with your cock. Fuck me so hard that I can’t walk after.”

Juyeon lets out a sound that is a mix between a grunt and a laugh and Hangyul’s whole body shivers. He feels so small, at the mercy of the older boy.

“Can’t have that. You still gotta dance tomorrow.”

“Please, hyung. Don’t you want to see me limping tomorrow, having everybody know what I’ve been up to?”

“Fuck, Hangyul, you and your filthy mouth.” And that is all Juyeon needs to plough into him at a maddening pace. The image of them in the mirror makes Hangyul dizzy. He can’t stop staring at the look on Juyeon’s red face, his eyes closed and mouth hanging in pleasure. Hangyul blushes at the way his whole body bounces from how fast Juyeon is thrusting into him.

And to top it all off, Juyeon’s hands creep around, one coming up to tweak Hangyul’s hardened nipples and the other coming down to spread pre-cum all over his hard cock.

“Don’t cum until I tell you to,” Juyeon commands.

“Hyungg…” That commanding tone always does things to him, making him whine helplessly. Hangyul’s grip on the mirror starts to get slippery. He can feel his arms and thighs sore from trying to hold himself up. “Hyung, please…” He doesn’t care what he’s begging for. The act of begging alone tickles the submissive side of him. He just wants to be at Juyeon’s mercy. He wants to feel humiliated and disposable.

“Use your words, baby. What do you want hyung to do?” A hand comes down on his ass again. Their positions don’t quite allow him to see the slap mark on his ass cheek so Hangyul resorts to his imagination. Tonight, when he gets home and takes a shower, there will be a red mark to remind him who he belongs to. 

“Hyung, faster. I need more.”

Hangyul’s wish is Juyeon’s command. Juyeon leans back slightly, adjusting their angle so he can fuck into Hangyul better. Hangyul’s slippery grip finally gives in and he presses against the mirror, breathing foggy clouds into the glass. He sobs at how overwhelming everything is. “Hyung… hyung… It feels so good. You’re making me feel so good. Hyung, can I cum?”

Then unexpectedly, Juyeon bites down on his shoulder blade. Hard. On his compass tattoo. Hangyul suddenly wants to be constantly marked by Juyeon. As soon as a bruise fades, a new one should take its place like a promise.

“Come for me, baby.” The hand circling his cock strokes faster. Hangyul comes with a loud moan, wet face and palms pressing against the mirror. Juyeon comes shortly after, tucking his head into the crook of Hangyul’s neck, rubbing at him like a cat. Hangyul hears Juyeon whining softly into his neck, arms circling his waist in an embrace.

They are both absolutely spent. Juyeon slips out of him, ties the condom and flops it down on the floor for now. Yes, it’s gross. But they have to clean up the spit and sweat and somewhat get rid of the smell of sex before they leave anyway. Hangyul turns around to pull Juyeon into his chest, cooing adorations. “You did so well, hyung. It was amazing.”

“You too, Hangyul-ah. You were perfect.”

Out of context, this would sound like an exchange they might have after a dance performance or something of the like. If they were on good terms at all. Hangyul chuckles tragically at the reminder that outside of sex, he is as good as nothing to Juyeon.

Neither of them wants to let go just yet, so they just stand there in a tight embrace, Juyeon’s warm breath leaving condensations on Hangyul’s bare chest.

“Okay, let’s clean up and leave. It’s,” Hangyul glances at the clock on the other side of the room, “almost 2am. Come on.”

“Should I, um,” Juyeon looks like he swallowed a stone.

“What?”

“Can I—uh, do you,” in hindsight, he’ll probably find this scene funny: Juyeon standing stark naked in a half-lit dance studio stuttering.

“What is it, Juyeon?”

The other boy peers up like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “Would you like me to take you home?”

What?

_What??_

…

Seriously, what the fuck???

“Uh,” says Hangyul intelligently.

“You can totally say no if it makes you uncomfortable!” The taller boy looks so _embarrassed,_ like he had suggested something outrageous and is now backtracking from that shameful suggestion.

“Sure. You can take me home. If you want. I guess… that just means taking the bus with me, right?”

Juyeon lights up at his reply, face splitting into a satisfied grin.

“Put some clothes on, Jesus. Are you gonna stand there naked all night?”

“Can’t do that. Gotta take you home!”

What is Juyeon so excited for?

As they walk along the dark hallway, down the two flights of stairs, through the street lit up by convenience stores and billboards, Juyeon keeps stealing glances at him.

“What is it now?” Hangyul does not know what had gotten into Juyeon all of a sudden but everything about this has been strange. They have always been the type of fuck buddies that would zip up their pants and get out of there in two seconds.

“No, nothing, why are you so aggressive?” Juyeon looks away, muttering “cute…” under his breath.

/

“Cute.”

“Okay, but like, did he say it like, ‘you’re so stunningly attractive that I can’t help but blurt out how cute you are’? Or was it more like, ‘aw, you think you’re hot shit, don’t you? that’s so cute’?”

Hangyul always wants to smack Byungchan in the face, but now especially.

“I mean,” he thinks back to the memory of last night that now feels like a fever dream, “both? Does that make sense?”

“Try saying it like how he said it.”

This is fucking stupid. But Hangyul does it anyway, eyes darting up in concentration, recalling the tone and pitch that Juyeon used last night, “cute.”

“…”

“Did you say it like how he said it??”

“Yeah!”

“Huh,” that motherfucker tilts his head and hisses, “say that again?”

“…”

“Cute.”

“I have no clue, bro. I think you’re just doing it wrong.”

“Fuck you.”

At some point, Wooseok and Yohan join them wordlessly, stealing chips from Hangyul’s plate like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Who was this again?”

“Uh,” Hangyul thoroughly regrets coming to Choi Byungchan for help. He didn’t even get the help he needed! And now Byungchan has the gall to be nosy?

“Just some guy I hooked up with.”

“Just some guy?” Wooseok pipes up, “that’s weird. You almost always forget about your hook ups as soon as you get out of there.”

Why does Kim Wooseok have to be smart? Why? Hangyul is surrounded by idiots so much that he forgot some people have a thing called ‘logic.’

“Yeah, well, I don’t get called ‘cute’ a lot so I was just curious.”

All three of his friends stare at him like he had grown a second head.

“That is not true.” 

“Now that is just offensive.” Yohan and Wooseok speak at the same time. Byungchan tsks, eating from Hangyul’s plate of fries now too.

“Can we stop talking about my lo—I mean, sex life, please?” Hangyul’s two brain cells can not put up with this.

“Okay,” Wooseok wipes his oily fingers on a napkin and picks up his phone to text his boyfriend Seungyoun. “Don’t whine when I talk about _my_ sex life.”

“Guys, I’m woefully single here. Can we not?” Byungchan looks like he has tears in his eyes as he stabs his noodles violently. Yohan just sits his pretty self there, giggling as he sucks on his juice box.

“When does our break end again?”

“Not until 1:30 I think. Juyeon had a gig this morning so Jacob told me we’re taking an extended break until Juyeon gets here,” says Byungchan.

“Speaking of Juyeon, dang, I wanna suck his dick.” Wooseok declares.

“Hyung!?” Hangyul jumps out of his seat like hit by lightning, his face getting incredibly warm.

The worst thing about this?

Hangyul tries his best not to let on that _he_ has already sucked said dick and it was amazing. Very nice dick, 10/10 would recommend.

“Oh, come on, why are you clutching your pearls? We all _think_ it, I just say it on behalf of the group.”

Yohan giggles cutely in accordance. He must be imagining their whole dance group getting down on their knees in front of Juyeon, asking for a spare crumb of dick. Yohan has _such_ filthy humor, Hangyul grimaces.

Byungchan begins unhelpfully, “honestly though…”

“No! No! Stop it!” Perhaps it isn’t smart to be so defensive.

“What’s your problem, Hangyul?” Wooseok turns to him, annoyed, “are you saying that if given the chance, you would _not_ suck Juyeon’s dick?”

“I just… just… hate him, okay? I don’t want to hear about his dick.”

That would have been a lot more believable if Hangyul wasn’t completely red in the face, his pupils darting everywhere.

“Why do you hate him anyway? Actually, I never understood that. I don’t even remember if anything happened. One day you just… started hating the guy for some reasons.” Byungchan has eaten the last of Hangyul’s fries now, dusting his hands to metaphorically twist a knife into Hangyul’s gut.

“I—haven’t we always been rivals? X1 and TBZ?”

He thinks he hears Yohan mumbles quietly, “yeah, but I don’t think anyone took it seriously but you…”

“He’s just cocky! And entitled! And… infuriating. He’s just confusing, okay? He treats you super nicely one day and then would straight up ignore you the next. I just hate that flaky shit.” Hangyul spits, more aggressively than he intended to.

He knows his teammates are making jokes all in good fun, but after the sex and the walk back last night, he can’t handle a Juyeon’s Dick Discussion ™ right now. He had already gone to bed obsessing over said dick’s owner and the boy’s beautiful catlike eyes. Hangyul has to refrain from sighing dreamily at the thought of those eyes blinking at him with wonder. Juyeon looks at him with wonder. Why does Juyeon have to look at him with wonder? What does it mean??

(Hangyul knows what he wants it to mean. He’s just too _scared_ to let himself want it. He doesn’t want to be wrong and get his heart broken.)

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air—” He gathers his trash and stands up, needing to get out of this conversation ASAP.

“Wanna hit 7/11 real quick?” Wooseok interrupts.

“No, I don’t need any—”

Without waiting for a reply, Wooseok drags him towards the entrance, “just shut up and follow me. I’ll buy you ice cream.”

Well, who is Hangyul to turn down free ice cream? Hangyul may have taken care of rent this month with even some to spare. Doesn’t mean he’s suddenly rolling in dough.

“Okay, I want strawberry.”

/

“So you and Juyeon huh?”

Hangyul almost chokes on his spit as he reaches out to accept the strawberry soft serve from his hyung. He should have known something was up when Wooseok said he’d buy him a treat. Now he can’t just walk away with a free ice cream, can he?

“How did you know?” Hangyul squeaks, too nervous to taste anything at all. 

Wooseok gives him a look because _duh, Kim Wooseok knows everything._ “Are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

Juyeon knows that they are fucking just as much as he does, right? Hangyul doesn’t think there is anything else he has failed to communicate.

“That you… have feelings for him? Like More Than Dick-Sucking kind of feelings?”

At that moment, the Earth seems to shift slightly. Literally, because Hangyul feels dizzy despite being seated. He can’t believe that Wooseok ends up being the first to speak The Feelings into existence. He has an incredible urge to give Wooseok a concussion and hope for memory loss. Or kidnap him and sell his organs. Or kill him and dispose of the body.

Since none of those is ethical or legal, Hangyul attempts a distraction, “is there a feeling more intense than sucking dick?”

“Yeah,” the kitty licks his own melting soft serve innocently, “like Hand-Holding kind of feelings.”

Oh gosh, hand-holding. HAND-HOLDING. Juyeon’s hand. Juyeon’s insanely large hands. Those thin long beautiful fingers. He wants his gruff chubby fingers to interlock with Juyeon’s slender ones. Hangyul winces and turns to Wooseok because _fuck, that’s adorable._

“Oh… you poor sweet little himbo…” Wooseok frowns sympathetically.

Hangyul’s ice cream is melting all over his hand now and he can’t be bothered to do anything about it.

“So… what have you two been doing? Your reaction tells me there hasn’t been a whole lot of, well, conversations.”

“What do you _think_ we’ve been doing?”

“Gross!” The older boy throws his dirty ice-cream-stained napkin at Hangyul’s face.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Damn, I wanna be in the middle of _all that._ ” His hyung shoots him a perverted smirk and Hangyul cackles. He appreciates Wooseok trying to keep the mood light.

They should probably get back soon. Their break is definitely over by now. And as co-choreographer, Hangyul should _really_ get his ass up. But instead, the thought of being in close proximity with Juyeon right now is daunting. Hangyul has never been good at processing feelings, opting to experience them without much reflection.

“Hyung, I think I like Juyeon.” Hangyul lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Wooseok turns to smile at him, a wordless _I’m proud of you_ shining in the older boy’s eyes.

“The sex… is great. It’s always been great. It’s way more intense than the sex I have with anybody else, you know?” He can’t believe he’s saying all this to Wooseok. He didn’t realize how much he craved being able to gush about Juyeon out loud to someone.

“But sometimes, I… get distracted. Does that make sense? It can feel really good, but I would find myself thinking about something else. Like his cologne. Or that he still uses the same shampoo from three years ago. Or that… I wish he’d say some of the things he says during sex out of it too… I don’t know if I’m even making sense.” Hangyul sounds stupid even to himself. He should appreciate anything he can get, right? Since he has feelings for Juyeon and all?

“Hangyul, it’s normal to have those thoughts during sex. Especially since the emotional connection is not as strong as the physical connection, or even as strong as you want it to be.” Wooseok reassures.

He thinks about what Wooseok says. He tries to apply the observation to the thoughts and feelings he often has during sex with Juyeon.

“Hangyul, you shouldn’t have to dissociate every time the two of you fuck.”

Huh.

They let the statement hang between them, clear and palpable in the afternoon heat.

Hangyul has always felt that there were similarities between dancing and fucking. The way bodies are contorted in intricate shapes, engaged sometimes in fluid motion, sometimes sharp and staccato, riding through paces fast and slow. Hangyul loves the image and the feeling, loves being able to express himself via movement.

Hangyul thinks of the times when he didn’t connect with a piece, times when he wasn’t able to let go of his day-to-day life at the door, bringing worries and baggage into the sacred space where dancing happens, times where he went through the motions without engaging fully in a piece. Those times corroded his passion, made him doubt both the art of dancing and his relationship to it.

“Like, I get it, Juyeon is a sex god with a gigantic cock and that your brain is scrambled like 80% of the time anyway. But emotionally speaking, it’s nice to be present too. During sex. You know?”

Being present during sex. It’s not something he’d ever thought about. As a dude, as a manly-looking dude with a stoic attitude, no one has ever told him he deserves to be seen and appreciated during sex.

“You deserve that. You deserve to be more than just a quick fuck.”

He glances over at his hyung, his small delicate pretty hyung and wonders if anyone could ever treat _him_ like he is small, delicate and pretty.

His wandering mind lands on a specific memory that rushes blood to his face. He decides not to dwell. “By the way, is your boyfriend really okay with you talking about Juyeon’s cock nonstop like that?”

Wooseok has finished his treat, pushing the last of the waffle cone inside his mouth. “Yeah, Seungyoun’s chill. We’re open anyway. We actually have a lot of fun men-shopping together.”

That sounds incredible. Seungyoun and Wooseok’s relationship is what he aspires to, though he’ll never in a million years say that out loud. Wooseok’s ego is already bigger than the man himself.

“So are you gonna tell him?”

Hangyul thinks about that. He thinks about Juyeon’s meaningful glances, the words at the tip of the other’s tongue, the way Juyeon stutters and blushes around him. In the past, he was always too afraid to dig deeper, fearing the gravity of both his and Juyeon’s feelings. Feelings sometimes seem too much for his pea-sized brain to process. But now, sitting here with Wooseok, effectively ditching practice, Hangyul wants to know what happens when he puts the baggage at the door. There are choreographies that invigorate him, send him to cloud nine, make him giggle in bed at night. And then there are choreographies that break his heart. There are the ones that make him feel despair like never before.

But Hangyul has never regretted giving himself fully to a dance. Physically _and_ emotionally.

/

The last time they fucked in college was the spring leading up to Juyeon’s graduation. Juyeon would be entering the real world, no longer permitted by the school administration to be a part of TBZ. They both knew this meant they’d no longer have a reason to “run into” each other. No reason to make eye contact across the room and walk to some hidden corner, ten minutes apart to avoid suspicion, clawing at each other’s flesh desperately. Hangyul tried not to think too much about what this meant.

Because what was there to think about? They barely exchanged words outside of their sexual episodes, probably didn’t even know much about one another because all they allowed themselves was petty banter that postured some sort of silly rivalry.

That last time they fucked was at a motel. The only time they had taken to a _bed_ instead of any relatively flat surface they could find. 

He bounced on top of Juyeon, back towards him, thoroughly blissed out. His mind couldn’t register anything except the sound of his own screams and the sound of skin slapping together.

Hangyul felt his pre-cum oozing out, dripping onto Juyeon’s legs and he reveled in it, wanting to leave traces of himself everywhere on Juyeon’s body.

He heard his own broken sobs, his jumbled speech that made little sense and shuddered at how _slutty_ he sounded. He wondered if Juyeon liked it too, liked it when Hangyul completely let go and submitted to being Juyeon’s helpless little slut.

“Hangyul, turn around, I wanna see you.”

He thought he heard Juyeon asking him something but the room was spinning now and his ears were ringing from pure pleasure and he struggled to reply. Instead, he moaned in agreement. Because whatever the question/ demand/ statement was, Hangyul’s answer was ‘yes.’ He completely trusted Juyeon to take care of him and everything just felt _so_ good and he wanted to send Juyeon’s parents a fruit basket for giving birth to such a fine man.

He felt the other boy picking him up carefully by the waist and nudging him to turn around. His shaking hands groped for balance, laid flat on Juyeon’s firm torso to prop himself up. He felt Juyeon slipping his cock back in place, readjusting Hangyul’s knee placements for comfort. Hangyul felt small and pliable, like a ragdoll in Juyeon’s maneuver. Before Hangyul knew it, he was pressing a sloppy kiss against Juyeon’s half-open mouth, his tongue eager to lap at Juyeon’s bottom lip, a whine echoing between their wet caverns. His heart seized and an indescribable wave of feelings poured out of him, into Juyeon’s hanging mouth. He felt Juyeon shiver like whatever the message, while unknown to even himself, was fully communicated to Juyeon’s whole being, his every cell. A hand came up to stroke his cheek and tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. That was when Hangyul realized he had started crying, cheeks wet and mouth salty.

Why was he crying?

Juyeon’s hip jerked even faster, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. The older boy’s other hand came down to grab his leaking cock, spreading the precum to lubricate.

Hangyul whined and whined into Juyeon’s mouth like a desperate plea, like he was begging Juyeon to never stop caring for him like this, like he was hopeless for Juyeon to love him, to look at him with glossy blown out eyes even when they aren’t fucking.

And that’s the thought that pushed him over the edge, spilling hot spurts onto Juyeon’s abdomen, head ringing with a dooming realization that he wanted more than Juyeon was willing to give him.

The ecstatic burst of pleasure was laced with an ugly new-found self-loathing. Because why was he so greedy? The hottest boy he’d ever met was fucking him into oblivion and the conclusion he arrived at was that he wanted more?

Everything that came next was a blur. At some point, Juyeon climaxed into the condom, guttural grunts sounding in his ears and reverberated through his entire body. He felt Juyeon pulling out of him, laying him softly onto the mattress. At some point, a warm towel pressed along his face, neck, chest, torso, down to his aching thighs, his ass. Maybe Juyeon cuddled him. Maybe the older boy pulled him into his chest and left butterfly kisses all over his face, on the reddish bruises along his neck. Perhaps Juyeon looked at him adoringly, brushing hair out of his face and murmuring “you’re amazing, Hangyul” for a long time.

Maybe it was all a dream.

If that was the case, then he remembers dream Hangyul telling Juyeon that he loved him.

/

Juyeon had thought that was goodbye.

The whole month leading up to his graduation, he itched to confess to Hangyul for real. He wanted to tell the other boy that he’d been crushing on him even before they started having sex. Juyeon isn’t one to believe in love at first sight, thinks it too cheesy and unrealistic, painting love as an uncontrollable, sudden thing instead of a committed and intentional practice. 

The first time he laid eyes on Hangyul, it was Hangyul’s first stage with X1 in his freshman year. Hangyul set both the stage and Juyeon’s heart on fire. The boy danced with so much passion, so much joy and soul, the ten-minutes-dance routine felt both slow and fast, each and every second deliciously prolonged into tableaus that ingrained in Juyeon’s mind yet the whole thing ended in a blink of an eye.

_So you had a religious experience,_ Sangyeon hyung had commented with a giggle.

The first time they spoke, Juyeon’s legs almost gave in.

“You call yourself ‘The Boyz’? How creative. Did you call your dance number ‘The Danze’ and your fans ‘The Fanz’ too?” Hangyul sneered with a glint of playfulness in his eyes. The rest of TBZ had chuckled along with mirth. Their maknae Eric rolled up his sleeves in jest, mouth puffing and huffing like a cartoon character.

“What the fuck is ‘X1’ then? Did you close your eyes and press some random characters?” Juyeon shot back; arms folded cockily to hide just how nervous he was. Wooseok hyung, the baddest Scorpio bitch in town, cracked a half-smile, index finger wagging at ‘those handsome TBZ brats.’ At Juyeon’s comeback, Hangyul raised an eyebrow, lips pressed together to uselessly contain a smirk. Juyeon wanted to kiss it away. He wanted to see the other boy flustered, to see him shy and blushing. That’s how the friendly rivalry started. Both teams edged each other on, competed to see who could come up with the most creative insults on top of their spectacular dance routines.

Juyeon didn’t realize that he was wrapped around Hangyul’s little finger until the night he laid in bed after they had sex for the first time. Both teams had gone clubbing together after X1 won the intercollegiate dance championship. Hangyul looked drop dead gorgeous in the afterglow of victory, grinding against his teammates under the multi-color strobe lights. They ran into each other in the club bathroom, exchanged eye contact in the mirror and the next minute, Hangyul had him pressed up against the locked door, hot tongue tasted of tequila and lime.

Hangyul was feeling like a winner that night and didn’t hold back from going after what he wanted. Sometimes, Juyeon wonders if TBZ had won that night, would they still have fucked?

(If the answer was up to him, it would be a resounding ‘yes.’)

Juyeon thinks he was always _almost_ confessing to Hangyul. Three years. Three dance championships. Countless busking and pop up performances. Seven months of sleeping with each other. Why did he never do it?

_Next time. I’ll tell him next time._

The last time they had sex in college, Hangyul mumbled ‘I love you’ before passing out. Juyeon got out of bed in a panic, cried in the bathroom for hours before leaving without as much as a goodbye. As the words— _those words_ _—_ slipped out of Hangyul’s mouth, the gravity of his feelings hit him. He was overcome by the wish that those words weren’t merely a product of post-coital high. And the possibility that they might have been destroyed him.

Juyeon ran away to keep himself safe, and in the process, preemptively breaking his own heart.

(And perhaps Hangyul’s too.)

Working as choreographers in the same industry, Juyeon had wondered more than once if they would ever meet again.

And so what if they would?

To Hangyul, Juyeon was no more than a sex buddy for a few short months in college, a rival dancer who conveniently provided much needed relief in a high-strung environment. It would be silly to hang on so tightly to a one-sided crush he was too much of a coward to do anything about.

So what if they meet again?

The answer came in the form of Lee Hangyul on the first day of rehearsal for the commissioned project that put the two back in each other’s orbit. All the feelings Juyeon had tried to bury for the last three years came rushing back, crystalising for him the need to finally confront them. _And do something about them._

Maybe he’ll tell Hangyul this time.

Juyeon is no less nervous and scared out of his mind than three years ago. But the years and distance have perhaps allowed him to see things clearer.

There is something in the way Hangyul looks at him, the way the boy buries his nose into the crook of Juyeon’s neck every time they have sex, breathing him in, the way he exhales softly in contentment, the way he can’t help but smile into every kiss they share. Has it always been there? Has Juyeon been so self-involved to miss all the signs this whole time?

“Juyeon!” It is a week before the end of their project together when Hangyul comes up to him during break. “Can I talk to you today after we get off?” Juyeon doesn’t know if Hangyul’s blush is from the dancing or something else. The boy keeps licking his lips and twiddling his thumbs.

Juyeon swallows a lump in his throat and inhales before he speaks, “yeah. Yeah, I have something to tell you too.”

Hangyul smiles. His eyes shine with anticipation and understanding. Juyeon smiles back at him.

Maybe he’ll tell Hangyul this time after all.

Maybe he already knows.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are super appreciated. ♡ I'm curious to know what people think cause, well, rarepair. XD Feel free to come say hi on twitter or curiouscat @purplepastiche1!


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